


To Think that We Could Stay the Same

by Desiree_Harding



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: (Angus and his friends generally being rowdy high school idiots), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Broken Engagement, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Matchmaking, Mutual Pining, Past Relationship(s), Taako is a good teacher, kravitz is a Good Dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2020-12-31 19:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21150923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desiree_Harding/pseuds/Desiree_Harding
Summary: Once upon a time, Taako and Kravitz were in love. Engaged, even. And then all of a sudden they just... weren't.Separate careers. Separate cities. Separate lives. Kravitz became a father. Taako became a chef. Well, kind of.Now, just shy of 13 years since Kravitz woke up one morning to find Taako gone without a trace, a door opens. And who else would be on the other side but his ex-fiance?Also known as Taako is Angus's teacher, and Kravitz is panicking.**Discontinued**





	1. Ah... Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fandomsnstuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomsnstuff/gifts).

> OK FINE, Y'all. You asked for it, and you got it. Here, at last, is the fic form of the original tumblr post. Now it's on Ao3 and I can't take it back.  
That said, I am an academic, and I have a lot going on, and another WIP right now. Updates will typically be short and casual.  
Credit: Taako's last name stolen from [Bureau of Badass](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10863744/chapters/24128919) by [Chemicallywrit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chemicallywrit/pseuds/Chemicallywrit) and [miceenscene.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miceenscene/pseuds/miceenscene) Which will forever be a fic and a writing team that outdo and inspire me. If you haven't read their stuff, check it out.
> 
> If you're interested in more from this verse, check out the tumblr tag [here.](https://desiree-harding-fic.tumblr.com/search/broken%20engagement%20au)

“Angus?” Taako says mildly from behind his desk.

“Hmm??” The kid hums from where he’s hanging  _ upside down  _ off Taako’s ratty classroom couch in the corner. His glasses are half falling off his face, but he’s got a book held up a few inches from his nose anyway. The thing is, the book is right-side up.

“Whatcha doin’ there, kiddo?” Taako asks, marking through another sentence on the paper in front of him with a frown.

“Well, sir,” Angus starts in that  _ tone _ that always makes Taako bite down on a grin, “I read them too fast right side up. I think my comprehension is suffering because the words go by too fast.”

“Bullshit,” Taako says, ignoring Angus’s  _ language, sir!  _ “Your comprehension is fine and you know it. You’re just a show-off nerd,” he teases.

“Says the one who had a powerpoint about LGBT influences in 16 th Century literature ready last week for the eventuality that someone in your class called Mercutio ‘kinda gay,’”

“Hey, that was a good lesson –” Taako starts in, but the kid sits up abruptly on the couch, putting the book down and picking up his phone. Taako can hear another buzz of a message coming in as the kid is scrolling through it.

“My dad’s here, sir,” he says, “he’s on his way to the room now.”

“About time.” Taako puts the essay back in the section folder, slips it into his bag to grade when he gets home. The grading is endless. One of his least favorite parts of the job. Who needs grades anyway? All his kids are smart. Seems dumb to hold them all to the same arbitrary standard. 

“I’m sorry for keeping you, sir,” Angus says, and he’s moved over to the desk he threw his backpack down on when he came into the room almost an hour ago. He looks a little unsure, and Taako curses himself silently in his head.

“It’s ok, kid,” he says, trying to make sure he sounds like he means it so Angus won’t feel bad, “I told you, it ain’t no thing for me to stay after a bit to talk to your old man.”

Angus is… a special case. Taako’s never had anything like him in a class before. Kid’s only just turned 12 years old and he’s already starting high school. A real whiz-kid, but it’s a tough world out there, high school being full of teenagers of all shapes, sizes, and personalities, for a literal  _ kid _ –

Hence Taako.

He’s been teaching at Neverwinter Academy for almost four years now, grateful every second of the time that anyone deigned to give him a job (and thank the  _ gods _ for Principal Davenport), much less at a premier private school where he’s largely allowed to make his own curriculum with only a few guidelines. It’s a good job. Taako likes it. It’s stable and it’s safe and no one’s going to die from Taako’s  _ lecturing _ and he actually kind of has a knack with the kids, weirdly enough.

Hence Angus and Taako.

Neverwinter Secondary Academy has a mentorship program. Kids who seem to struggle a bit academically get paired with a faculty adviser to help see them through. Well Angus is anything but struggling – he’s gotten straight As on every assignment Taako’s given thus far – but all the same, Taako was contacted at the beginning of the year about the kid. He was placed right in the program anyway, not for academic reasons for once, but for social.

_ You have a knack for getting close to the students _ , Davenport’s email had read.  _ While I see no reason why Angus shouldn’t succeed at NSA, he might have some difficulty adjusting socially. His parent originally contacted us about the idea, and I have to say I agree that giving Angus an extra support figure can only be beneficial. _

Taako had agreed, of course; how could he say no? And meeting Angus had really cinched it. Kid’s only been in Taako’s class a little over a month, but he’s already maybe one of Taako’s favorite students, like,  _ ever _ . Not that Taako plays favorites. He likes all his students just the same, thank you very much.

(Angus is definitely his favorite.)

It didn’t help that the kid’s a goofball smartass nerd, either, which is the exact archetype that makes up like… 98% of Taako’s family and close friends. It doesn’t help that he’s got a single parent keeping everything together at home based on the school records and the email chain back and forth. It doesn’t help that his dad, who he mentions about as often to Taako as people talk about like… the weather, seems like a really genuine guy who’s trying really hard based on the email chain they’ve had going. Angus’s dad set up the parent/teacher conference, even, to check in on how things are going, one-on-one with Angus’s adviser. It’s almost disgustingly practical and good and loving and it seems like everything in this kid’s entire  _ life _ has been engineered to make Taako fuckin’  _ love _ him.

It’s really not fair. He teaches like 90 students. He’s not supposed to have favorites.

And yet.

There’s a knock on Taako’s door and they both look up, Angus smiling immediately, which definitely isn’t  _ cute _ , Taako,  _ Christ _ , and Taako gets up from his desk and smooths his shirt out. He dressed normal today and everything. He knows the kids like his… eccentric style, but parents? Parents are always a different game. And knowing he was about to meet Angus’s dad today gave him pause that morning. Still. The soft blue button down and slacks are a touch rumpled from a day’s work. He could look better.

He gets up and goes to the door, Angus trailing along behind.

*****

Neverwinter Secondary Academy could be a maze for all Kravitz’s skill navigating his way to Angus’s classroom, which is  _ of course _ the farthest from the front office that any in this place  _ could _ be, surely, and he’s already late after being kept at work, and he’s sure that Angus’s teacher is at the very least unimpressed with him and more likely annoyed, which is  _ just _ what he needed - 

He  _ finally _ finds his way, sees the sign reading  _ T. Peynirci _ , and he takes a moment to smooth out the wrinkles in his jacket from the day (which of course does no good because it never does), before he raises his hand and knocks on Mr. Peynirci’s door.

And Taako opens it.

“Ah,” Taako says, and then nothing else, his hand hovering in midair where it was clearly extended for a handshake - 

“Dad!” Angus says, “this is my adviser and English teacher,  _ Mr. Peynirci _ ,” and there’s a little bit of a sneer in it that Kravitz doesn’t know the context for, “Taako, this is my dad.” And it’s exactly how an introduction should go, all crossed t’s and dotted i’s -

And Kravitz’s brain is on high alert, emergency sirens blaring.

And his first thought, infuriatingly, is how  _ good _ Taako looks, now, still, after all this time. Which is ridiculous because Kravitz can hardly recognize him (he’s wearing  _ glasses _ , for Christ’s sake) and also because he hasn’t seen Taako in over twelve years and he’s supposed to be  _ past _ those thoughts by now -

The second thought is who on  _ Earth _ entrusted Taako with the care and keeping (and the  _ education _ ) of a bunch of impressionable  _ teenagers _ , much less  _ his son’s  _ mental, emotional, and social well-being - 

The third thought is that Angus is  _ right there _ and Kravitz has been staring blankly at Taako for what is likely about to become a second too long - 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Peynirci,” he says, reaching out and shaking Taako’s hand, though he doesn’t want to touch him, does he? (He does, he does  _ so  _ much.)  _ Nice to meet you _ , he says, and he shakes Taako’s hand, and he can  _ feel _ his grip, too tight, can  _ see _ , perfectly, the moment Taako’s eyes go from shocked and awed to empty, except for a spark, just a spark of malice, right there. He regrets  _ everything _ .

“Likewise, Mr. McDonald,” Taako says, releasing Kravitz’s hand, and Kravitz nearly winces from it. Because it was one thing, wasn’t it, to make the decision to pretend that Taako was a stranger, but it’s another to be on the receiving end of it, to see Taako introducing himself as though he’s going to trip over Kravitz’s very  _ name _ , as though he’s never had to say it out loud before this moment. As though Taako didn’t spend years falling asleep and waking up beside Kravitz, didn’t spend years going out and pressing himself against Kravitz in dim bars, tipsy and warm. As though he didn’t spend a year wearing a ring Kravitz selected for him, and sized to fit just so. As though he didn’t almost  _ take  _ that name and make it his own.

“Let’s sit down, shall we?” Taako says, and he smiles without any of his teeth.


	2. I (don't) Think About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting. Some introspection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Kravitz remembers a book he read years ago that claimed that to be an expert at something, a person has to have at least 10,000 hours of experience.

By that logic, there are few things Kravitz could call himself an  _ expert _ in. Law? Certainly. Between law school and practicing, he’s well past the threshold. Parenting? He’s not sure the rule applies there. Certainly not piano, no matter how many years he spent on it. He’s not an expert cook or an expert driver or even an expert at washing dishes, by the standard of hours alone.

But carefully avoiding the place in his thoughts where Taako resides is something Kravitz can claim expertise in easily.

Taako smiles at him, acidic and empty, and leads Kravitz to where he’s pushed two folding desks to face each other, and Kravitz settles into the plastic chair and allows the autopilot he’s developed in twelve years away from Taako take over. And he doesn’t think about Taako. He doesn’t think about the way he looks different, the crows feet at the corners of his eyes and the way the glasses almost hide them. Doesn’t think about how something in his voice has changed. He pulls out a legal pad with the questions he outlined to ask Angus’s adviser and carefully ignores the thousand questions perched on the edge of his tongue and his lips, ready to spill out any moment - questions like  _ how did you get here _ and  _ where have you been  _ and  _ who the fuck is Peynirci _ and  ** _why _ ** ** \- **

Taako has notes too. Kravitz doesn’t think about whether or not that’s like him.

He doesn’t check Taako’s hands to see if there’s a ring (there isn’t) and he doesn’t think about whether or not he cares (he  _ doesn’t _ ).

Kravitz is here for Angus, after all, but the thing is that Angus is fine. Taako runs him through Angus’s grades (all A’s) and what he’s seen of the social scene in regards to a twelve-year-old entering the school. Apparently there was a lot of talk originally, which has since died down. Taako even points out a few extracurriculars that are starting up soon that Angus can use to find some friends. He writes a list of them on a piece of paper from his own notebook and rips it off to give to Kravitz and says that Angus already knows about most of them but they can look at them together on the school’s website and blog and Kravitz doesn’t think about how Taako’s eyes are blank and cold when they meet his.

At least Angus isn’t hovering. As soon as Kravitz and Taako sat down he plopped onto the ratty blue couch in the corner and stuck his earbuds in. Kravitz almost feels bad. He hates talking about Angus while he’s there, but there was no better time to have the meeting.

(Except never. Never is sounding good right about now.)

And the meeting is  _ fine _ . They talk for a half hour, and everything is  _ fine _ . Taako stands up to show him and Angus to the door, and Angus gives him a hug and a wave goodbye, which Taako takes in  _ stride _ , and then they’re walking away from the classroom through the halls and out the door and Kravitz thinks, very proudly, that he didn’t think about Taako once the whole time.

*****

The door closes, and Taako  _ does not panic _ .

Because panicking is definitely, one hundred percent off brand for Taako these days, after all. Taako is a mature adult who can definitely handle being suddenly confronted with his ex-fiancé who just happens to be the  _ father _ of his  _ favorite student  _ which he maybe should have put together before now and which is  _ definitely completely fine and not a problem _ .

He collapses into his desk chair and puts his head in his hands.

The universe has it out for him, he’s sure of it. Just when he thought he was going to be fine, when he weathered all the shit from his last career and he went to therapy and to school _again_ \- when he started a new career and dealt with the Great Googling Fiasco of three years ago and moved out of Lup’s and got his own place and felt _secure_ _in any measure_ for the first time in maybe his whole life - just _now_ he gets _Kravitz_ dropped on him out of fucking _nowhere_.

“Did I piss of a god somewhere along the line?” he says into his hands. He looks up at the ceiling. “You know if it’s one of y’all’s jobs to ruin my life at every turn do you think you could  _ take a vacation? For a month or two?  _ ** _Please?_ ** _ ” _

The foam tiles don’t answer. And what the fuck was he expecting in that department, really.

_ Fuck _ .

The  _ one thing _ in his life, the  _ one thing _ Taako thought he got away with just  _ had  _ to come back to haunt him. As his  _ favorite student’s dad _ , which is  _ insane _ because since when did Kravitz have  _ kids _ ? Or kid, singular, Angus doesn’t have any siblings, but  _ fuck _ .

He can’t help but feel like he should have seen it. Angus has his dad’s eyes, almost exactly. The smartass humor, the bookishness? It’s Kravitz up and down, Kravitz all over. Even the way he dresses, too neat for a twelve-year-old, and Taako put it down to the kid being a little too smart for his own good and a little odd because of it, but  _ of course _ he’s Kravitz’s son. Of  _ course _ he is. They have the same goddamn  _ name _ , how did he not  _ see _ it?

He can’t help it. He checks the email thread he was sharing with Angus’s dad, and of course, of  _ course _ , the email address is  _ right there _ ,  kmcdonald@astrallawgroup.com and Taako could  _ die _ .

Does it color the exchange differently, knowing now that he was talking with Kravitz the whole time? But no, the words are the same; it’s all the same. Except Kravitz was on the other end. Kravitz, who Taako hasn’t seen in  _ years _ , who he hasn’t even done so much as stalk on Facebook because Lup said it wouldn’t be good for him, who he had just learned to put away in the past. Who he could imagine as a closed chapter, maybe not an entirely happy one, but at least one that was far away where it couldn’t  _ hurt him anymore _ .

But it wasn’t good enough was it? Fate or providence or whatever else put Kravitz on the other side of Taako’s door and subsequently opened that door to a thousand thoughts, a thousand  _ emotions _ Taako  _ really  _ doesn’t have the time or the energy to deal with.

And Kravitz is going to be in Taako’s life for  _ four years _ and he acted like he didn’t even  _ know  _ Taako, what the fuck was that?  _ Nice to meet you _ , like he didn’t  _ know _ , and maybe he doesn’t  _ want  _ to know Taako anymore, maybe he really wanted to act forever like they never knew each other - 

Maybe four years as polite strangers will be manageable. Maybe Taako will only ever see him from afar in the school parking lot or at parent nights or in the audience at a show or something and it won’t be a big deal. Maybe it’ll just be like it never even happened. Like there was never anything between them and there doesn’t have to be and it won’t  _ matter _ , like Kravitz isn’t the final massive regret hanging over Taako’s past, the one he  _ still _ hasn’t been able to deal with.

But Taako opened the door and saw the same eyes that he woke up to every morning for something like three years. Taako opened the door and Kravitz was on the other side, and maybe he was content with leaving him in the past before, but now -

Not to mention Angus. Taako is Angus’s mentor, his adviser. And now Taako has to teach Angus every day and pretend that nothing has changed when he knows whose son he is now and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to look at him again and  _ not  _ know it. He’ll know that, and he’s afraid that every time he looks at Angus it’ll be colored by what he knows, who he knows Angus is going home to, and how he could be going home to - 

_ No.  _ Taako is  _ not going there _ , no sir, not today, not at all,  _ nope _ .

_ Fuck _ , what is he going to  _ do? _

There’s another knock at his door, and for a moment Taako thinks that maybe he really never will get any rest. That Kravitz came  _ back  _ and he’s going to give Taako the what-for he deserves - 

But the door opens promptly after and it’s not Kravitz. It’s Barry.

“Hey bud,” he says, glancing down at his phone, “I texted you a minute ago but I don’t think it went through and I figured you were going to be done with your meeting by now -” he shuts up as soon as he meets Taako’s eyes.

“Oh, shit,” he says, as Taako stares at him, and Barry must recognize the look on his face. “I’ll tell Lup we’re both coming for dinner and you can tell me in the car, okay bud?” Taako nods and puts his head back in his hands, tugging on his hair a second before getting up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. He hopes all his shit’s packed up. He’s about 15 minutes away from a full  _ what the actual fuck  _ breakdown, and he’d much rather have that in Barry’s car and living room, preferably with a glass of wine, than in the Neverwinter Secondary Academy.

Barry claps him on the back as he walks out the door and locks up.

“Hey,” he says, “it can’t be any worse than the Great Googling Fiasco.”

Taako laughs, maybe a touch hysterically. Because his brain is a little fuzzy and far away, and what else can he do at this moment but laugh?

“Oh believe me, Barold,” he says. “It’s worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Have a good day!


	3. Hie Me Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simile. Tells. Taako emergency protocol. Lup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! Another Chapter!

Taako is like a pot of water, heated almost to boiling. Any second, the steam will escape out the spout, the kettle whistling its high warning screech. Or maybe he’s like the surface tension on the glass of water under a dripping faucet; one more drop, and he’ll spill right over. He’s like a rubber band stretched tight, tight enough that you can see the rubber discolor and go brittle where it’s about to  _ snap _ \- 

He’s sitting in Barry’s passenger seat, because Taako’s car is old and shitty, because he and Barry have been best friends for years, and they’ve been carpooling on and off ever since Taako started work at NSA, and Taako is practically  _ vibrating  _ with pent-up energy,  _ something  _ resting there, behind the curve of his jaw as he stares resolutely out the window. And Barry recognizes the look on his face. It’s the one he gets when he’s thinking of things long passed that hurt him, and there are so many in Taako’s life. It’s the face he gets when he’s in his head, seven layers in there, deep, where rational thought doesn’t permeate and as a result every thought is therefore rational. It’s a dangerous look. One that Barry and Lup are careful to watch for in her brother.

It’s been worse, of course. Years ago, these looks would have prompted discussion of calling someone and an emergency room. Taako didn’t listen back then. It’s better now. These days, he doesn’t lose himself so easily. But it doesn’t mean he can’t have a bad time every once in a while.

Something has Taako shaken. And Barry will find out soon enough. But it’s always better to let Taako come to him than to push. And he will. Barry just has to wait.

Besides, they’ll be home to Lup soon. More than likely Taako is just waiting so he doesn’t have to explain everything twice.

*****

Angus’s dad is a bit quiet on the way home. 

Angus wonders if it’s about the meeting. His dad was in a strange mood the moment he entered the room - Angus sat on the couch and put his headphones on so it would look like he wasn’t paying attention, but he didn’t play any music. Instead he listened in to what Taako and his dad were saying.

He knows it’s rude to eavesdrop, but it was Angus they were talking about anyway. Shouldn’t he have a right to know? 

And besides, they didn’t say anything interesting. Taako said some things about Angus’s grades and how he’s doing with making friends (and maybe he doesn’t have that many  _ yet _ but he’s working on it), and his dad asked careful questions every once in a while. It was almost boring.

Almost.

Because, see, Angus is good at reading people. It’s a favorite pastime. He  _ practices _ . And he’s had more practice on his dad than he has with anyone else in the whole world. He can tell, like no one else can, when something is going on with his dad.

Something is going on with his dad.

Tells have been a big thing in Angus’s reading ever since a few years ago when he read that book about how magicians and psychics trick people, about how you can tell when someone is lying and how lawyers know when to push a witness on the stand. It was a good book. He should go back and read it again maybe - 

_ Anyway _ . Angus has his dad’s tells  _ down _ .

Drumming fingers on the steering wheel means agitation. Biting his lip means lost in thought, and not the casual kind of lost in thought; rather, the kind of thought that comes with a problem to be solved. He does it when he’s stuck in an impasse on a case. Sometimes he asks Angus for help; he never gives details, but he talks through logic. He bites his lip when he’s logicked himself into a corner.

And Angus knows his voice. Knows the tone he takes. He expected a sort of detached professionalism with Taako, and he was right, but… 

There was something else that he didn’t recognize in the way his dad spoke.

And the way he looked when he walked in… something took him off guard, but Angus doesn’t know what it could possibly be. Angus has mentioned Taako plenty of times. His dad planned the meeting. And if there was something that surprised his dad, it happened on sight. He was uncomfortable - and yes, that’s the word for it - before they even spoke.

Could it be he didn’t  _ like _ Taako?

It’s not like his dad to judge someone on first appearance. He always taught Angus  _ you never get a second chance to make a first impression _ but… this doesn’t seem like that. His dad gives people the benefit of the doubt. It’s a part of him. He wouldn’t just…  _ decide _ not to like Mr. Taako on sight. It’s  _ got _ to be something else.

But  _ what _ ?

It seems strange, and pieced together, but there’s  _ something _ up with his dad. And Angus is going to get to the bottom of it.

He just doesn’t have enough evidence.

Besides, he chastises himself, as his dad fiddles with the radio, turning up the music just a touch, it could be nothing at all. It could be just a tough day at work, and Angus would have no idea.

Still. He’ll wait and see.

*****

It’s honestly insane that with Lup’s job she gets home earlier than her husband.

She knows that being a teacher usually means long hours and a ton of work outside of class time but honestly, with  _ her _ teaching schedule, she should be even  _ busier _ than Barry is this time of year. And yet, every afternoon, she comes to their little house and there’s nary a sign of her boy. Maybe a text on her phone with an estimate of when he’ll be back. Usually telling her whether or not Taako is coming.

No text this afternoon, yet, but today had been planned, anyway. Taako’s staying after to meet with a parent and Barry, having mentioned the other day that he hadn’t been around for dinner in a while, was going to linger a little longer and just have Taako over for the evening. So when she walks in she drops her keys in the dish by the door, kicks off her shoes, and heads for the couch. Taako will probably want to cook with her. She can start prepping when Barry gives her an ETA.

There’s an indignant meow from her feet, and then Marie is pushing herself against Lup’s legs. She’s disgustingly affectionate in the afternoons when she’s been alone all day. Lup half wants to get another kitten to keep her company, but it would probably tip Barry’s allergies over the edge. One cat is manageable. Two would be a big ask.

She picks up Marie, pressing her face into her fur for a minute before settling her on her shoulder and carrying her to the couch, where she flops down. Marie squirms out of her arms and plops down beside her. And no sooner is that accomplished than she climbs into Lup’s lap, purring incessantly. Lup scratches her behind the ears, leans back, and closes her eyes.

Finally, a little peace.

Lup’s phone buzzes from her pocket and she sighs, her eyes flicking open. It never ends. One of these days she’s going to sue the damn university for violation of privacy laws or  _ something _ , because honestly, they can’t expect her to be on call all hours of every day.

She digs her phone out. It’s probably another email from a helpless undergrad but oh, no, it’s a text from Barry, and she smiles without thinking, unlocking her phone -

**En route home. Activate Taako emergency protocol level 3 (4?)**

**Also I love you <3**

Lup frowns at the screen. Not at the love thing, because obviously he would (and what a  _ nerd _ , she loves him), but the Taako emergency protocol is… not great.

She sighs again, runs a hand through her hair, displaces Marie from her lap (who protests gently before making herself comfortable on a cushion) and goes to the kitchen, already pulling things out of the fridge. A level 3 Taako isn’t going to want to cook. And she should probably check to see which whites they have in the wine fridge.

It’s just… she thought Taako was  _ fine _ . Maybe  _ hoped _ is a better word, but this year has been  _ better _ for Taako. Better than a lot of years. The aftermath of the Great Googling Fiasco died down. His students fucking  _ rock _ , to hear him talk about it. His club is alive and well and he’s getting to make his own curriculum and he started cooking with her again and things are going  _ well _ . So seeing a call for Taako emergency protocol is… she won’t say disappointing. Maybe worrisome.

It’s just barely October. This weekend the weather finally dropped into a reasonable fall temperature and Lup’s been having a ball breaking out the ankle boots and flannels. So. Chili it is.

She’s well into it by the time she hears the front door open and shut, and Barry calling out that they’re home. And Lup listens for Taako to say something, and he doesn’t, so she turns the chili to low and puts a lid on it to simmer and goes to the wine fridge to break out a bottle. Chili and rosé might not be the most traditional pairing, but Lup doesn’t particularly give a shit. Taako loves pink wines. Her beautiful basic bitch of a brother.

He’s already doing his best classical art impression when she enters the living room, draped over one of the arms of her couch like he’s forgotten he has a spine. Barry’s sitting at the other end, Taako’s feet in his lap, and he’s looking at his phone, but glances at Lup too when she enters. So she’s thinking level 3 maybe. Taako seems in fairly decent spirits, if a bit out of it. He’s putting on a sort of jovial, almost  _ silly _ demeanor, but his eyes are far away. They focus on her when she walks into the room.

“Hey, Lulu,” he says, upside down.

“Hey, Ko,” she says. “How’s it goin’?”

He lets out a breath through his teeth, long and measured and full of tension. So maybe a 3.5?

“Not great,” he says. And he actually sits up without her having to ask him to. She sits down next to him so he’s in between her and Barry and he takes a couple of the wine glasses she’s carrying from her, placing them on the coffee table. She opens the bottle and pours them each a drink (not too generous. Thursdays only count as a weekend in college. They all have work tomorrow).

She waits until they’re a few sips in and it becomes evident that Taako’s going to need just a touch of gentle prodding to open up. Then she speaks.

“So what’s up, Taaks?”

And she half expects him to break into an overblown, exaggerated story about whatever happened that’s just comedic enough to make it  _ sound _ like nothing, and make Lup read between the lines. 

But he doesn’t. 

Actually he doesn’t say anything for another moment, just staring at the wine in his glass, swirling it around absent-mindedly. Or she thinks absent-mindedly. When  _ he _ speaks, his voice is filled with laser focus and careful controlled emotion.

“So you know that know-it-all they gave me as a… mentee kind of thing?” he says.

Lup remembers. Taako’s been talking about him almost nonstop since the year started. She nods.

“I had a meeting with his parent today,” Taako says, voice still pressed flat, stripped of any information. It’s kind of scary. Lup hasn’t seen him this detached in a while. It kicks the 3.5 up to a 3.8, dangerously close to a 4.

“Yeah, I remember, Ko,” she says, worried about where this is going.

“So I’m sitting in my classroom, right?” Taako says, runs a hand through his hair in agitation, gestures with it, “I’m just sitting there, and the guy is running a little late, but that’s okay, I have time, and the kid is there, and then finally he shows up and -” he laughs, a little unhinged, and his voice creeps a little higher with every word. “Do you know who his  _ fucking _ dad is? I mean, I go to the door and I open it, and it’s fucking - get  _ this _ , Lu, it’s fucking  _ Kravitz _ .”

It honestly takes Lup a moment to remember who  _ Kravitz _ is. When she does, the memory rockets to the surface of her brain, alarm bells accompanying it.  _ Oh shit _ \- 

“Shit,” she says, turning to face her brother, who has now slumped into the cushions behind him, even more directly. “Like,  _ Kravitz _ Kravitz?”

Taako, eyes closed, nods miserably.

Well, fuck.

This is a level 4.2 at  _ least _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for a read!  
In Desiree news, I recently put on tumblr that I will not be updating any other fics (Drag Your Cities) during the month of November due to me needing to get into grad school and completing applications which are soul-sucking vortexes...  
Anyway this will be the only fic updating and they will continue to be roughly weekly and short! Just FYI!  
Hope you enjoyed!   
<3,  
Desiree


	4. Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our two main boys dig themselves a little denial hole and decide to live in it.

Two glasses in over the course of a couple hours and Taako’s zoning out in front of some episode of Planet Earth he’s already seen (Barry puts it on in the background when he’s trying to be relaxing, which… Taako can understand, honestly, but he’s a nerd for it all the same).

They hashed out the whole thing. Taako told Lup all about the meeting while sitting with a bowl of chili on his lap that Marie kept trying to get to, and he was actually able to remember to breathe deeply and didn’t cry while he was telling it. He didn’t cry, and he didn’t even let his voice go all hysterical (mostly). And right now he’s not even _ sad _, he’s just… floaty. Like all this is happening to someone else.

He thinks maybe that’s not a very good sign, actually. He thinks maybe Istus would call that an indicator or something. For a moment he almost asks Lup for another glass of wine, but… no. He has to teach tomorrow. Two is enough. And besides, he and Istus have also talked about… self medication. He doesn’t want to have that conversation again.

“I hate being a responsible adult,” he grumbles, pushing his glasses up into his hair and rubbing his face.

“What was that, Ko?” Lup says sleepily from beside him on the couch. Marie’s made herself comfortable in her lap. Taako stands up, stretches. Checks his phone. Nine is late enough to stay at Lup’s.

“One of y’all’d better take me home,” he says, meaning it to come out kind of teasing but it ends up just being sort of soft and weird. Oh well. “I’ve got shit to do tomorrow.”

Lup gives him a long look, assessing. Taako looks right back.

“Yeah,” she says slowly. “Yeah, I’ll drive you home, if you want. You sure you don’t wanna stay over?” But Taako shakes his head.

“Don’t wanna have to go by my place tomorrow,” he says. Lup’s brow crinkles a little. “I’m good, Lu,” he says. “Honest.” Maybe he’s lying. He’s not really sure. Is it lying if he’s not sure?

Lup nods, gets up off the couch, carefully placing Marie beside her, who meows a long, whining complaint, and promptly climbs up onto Barry’s lap. Taako likes Marie. Auntie would’ve said they’re “of a kind.”

“Be right back, Bear,” Lup says, kissing him on the temple, and Barry mumbles something indistinct, which means he’s mostly asleep again. Taako will have to tease him about being old when he next remembers, but they’re all kind of old, now. Taako and Lup are almost in their 40s. Barry’s well into his. Maybe they are old now.

For a moment Taako feels vaguely ashamed for still being fucked up over his college ex at thirty seven. Wasn’t he supposed to have his shit figured out by now?

But Kravitz could always do things to him that he didn’t understand. Maybe, in a way, it’s comforting too, to see how little he’s changed.

Lup grabs the car keys from the bowl, and together they slide into her little sedan. Pull out of her driveway, Start making the drive to Taako’s apartment through the dark streets. Lup doesn’t turn the radio on, which means she wants to talk, but then she doesn’t say anything either, which means she’s not sure whether she can without upsetting him.

“You can say it,” Taako says, “whatever it is you’re thinking.” She shifts in the driver’s seat. Both of their eyes are on the road. The streetlights that whiz past them every so often light the car up in slow pulses of soft orange. Taako feels like he’s aware and not, all at once.

“You’re not freaking out,” Lup observes. Taako snorts a kind of laugh.

“No, I’m not.”

“I was kind of expecting you too.”

“I did a little at school.”

“Yeah, but –” and he can feel her eyes on him then, just for a second – “not like… not like it has been. I would’ve noticed.”

_ Would you? _ He almost says, but that’s unfair and mostly born out of spite, anyway. Out of simple contrariness. Of course she would notice. She’s _ Lup _ . And she’s a Lup who has actually _ been here _ and paying attention for the last eight years or so. She _ would _ know. She’s seen all the freakouts he’s had in recent memory.

“Istus helps.”

Lup nods. Another silence. They’ll be close to Taako’s apartment soon.

“What are you going to do?” Lup asks.

Taako shrugs.

“Teach the kid,” he answers, like it’s not complicated. Because it’s not. It’s _ not _.

“What about…” Lup doesn’t say his name. Taako wants to tell her, _ say it _ . It’s not like he’s so fragile he can’t even _ hear _ it without falling apart. For fuck’s sake, he _ saw _ him today. Saw him again, looking just as he did years ago and somehow better, the same eyes, the same cheekbones that Taako used to kiss on a whim when he came home and when he blinked awake on the weekends and - 

Taako swallows around a sudden lump in his throat.

“What about him?” He says, not naming him either, and feeling sort of cowardly for it. “We’re both grown-ups. Odds are we’ll never even see each other.” It’s _ rational _ and _ measured _ thing to say. The _ right _ thing to say, the kind of thing he _ should _say in a situation like this. 

“And you’re gonna be okay with that?”

For a second, something in Taako screams _ no, of course not _ ; the part of him that saw Kravitz this afternoon and wanted, instinctively, to reach out and touch him. For _ more _ than a cold handshake between strangers. The part of him that was met with Kravitz’s eyes again, everywhere they shouldn’t be, placed right into the center of his new life and shouted _ yes _ , _ yes, _ ** _this_ ** **. ** ** _This _ ** _ is what you’ve been missing. _ The part of him that saw Kravitz and remembered what it felt like to be his counterweight, to be a part of a pair, and felt, almost in muscle memory, like something that had been lost was found again.

But Taako’s _ not _ Kravitz’s partner anymore. Hasn’t been for a long time. Almost 13 years, and in that time he had to rebuild everything he knew about himself and recreate _ Taako _ from scratch. He changed his _ name _. He’s not the same person he was. And that part of him, the one that rejoiced at the sight of Kravitz, however lovely and hopeful and optimistic, holds no sway on his decisions anymore. And it shouldn’t.

Taako will be okay with cordial indifference. It’s what Kravitz set up the moment he said _ Nice to meet you _. Taako will be okay with it because he’s busy, and he’s grown-up, and he’s okay with things now because that’s how responsible, healthy adults act.

“Of course, Lulu,” he answers, and he wills himself to believe it.

*****

Kravitz doesn’t think about Taako as he makes dinner, hands following old patterns that he once would have ascribed to… to _ his _ teaching, but that have lost the connotation after more than a decade on their own. He doesn’t think about Taako as Angus goes tells him about the rest of his day. He doesn’t think about Taako as Angus does his homework at the coffee table and Kravitz works at his desk in companionable quiet. He doesn’t think about Taako as Angus climbs up the stairs to bed, or as Kravitz finishes up the dishes.

He doesn’t think about Taako as he settles onto the couch, finally, with a glass of wine. He doesn’t think about why he got the wine out. It’s because he had a long day. It’s not because of Taako.

He sips at it and he doesn’t think about Taako. And it’s almost like a normal evening. It’s almost like it has been for 12 years: Kravitz on his own and _ fine with it _, taking a moment for himself at the end of a long day. It’s still. Peaceful. He doesn’t turn the T.V. on. No need. The quiet is enough.

Angus left his things out on the coffee table after going upstairs. It makes Kravitz smile; he never picks up until the morning before school, no matter how many times Kravitz says to get ready the night before. It’s a careful equilibrium they keep, but it works. And besides, sometimes parenting means making little compromises. If he’s learned anything in life, it’s that.

There’s a math textbook with tomorrow’s homework tucked inside (Angus never uses folders, either, a battle Kravitz lost years ago). There’s a stack of papers, indiscernible in nature. Something like a worksheet on the top.

A scrap of paper, yellow, sitting apart from all the rest, catches his eye.

On one side of the table, separate, like it’s been given pride of place - it’s the note Taako wrote them, the list of extracurricular activities for Angus to look into. Right. They were supposed to go over it together, Angus and him; well, it’s only Thursday night. They’ll do it this weekend when they’re both a little less swamped. That will be a good time.

Kravitz leans forward, picks it up, for want of something to do. Maybe to see what Taako suggested -

Speech and debate looks good. Science olympiad. Quiz bowl. There’s more, but Kravitz can’t seem to focus on them. His eye keeps lingering on the y in _ Olympiad _ . Just the same as Taako used to write them. Just the same as the last time he saw Taako’s writing on the note he left behind, and Kravitz used to look at that note for hours, that _ y _ on the tail of it, and wonder what he had _ done _that convinced Taako so completely that he wasn’t worth so much as a goodbye.

And just like that, it hits him. All the careful resolve Kravitz kept up all day, the wall he constructed to make sure that nothing about seeing Taako again could touch him… it all just crumbles away, and he’s full of _ Taako, Taako, Taako, _from head to toe, heart to lungs. It fills him up so that he can’t breathe - 

His voice, the way his hands moved, the way he held himself, so different Kravitz almost wouldn’t recognize him except for the fact that he would recognize him _ anywhere _ , anywhere at all. His eyes, the coldness in them that sent chills right into _ Kravitz’s _ body, all down his spine. And infuriatingly, how he first thought that it was _ good _ to see him, even though Kravitz is _ furious _ at him - 

Seeing him again, in hindsight, now that he’s alone and there are no appearances to keep up… it was more than Kravitz could bear. He was… he looked… 

For a moment, he can _ see _ Taako in the doorway to the living room, vivid and real, just like he looked in the doorway to the classroom this afternoon, put together and shocked and _ lovely _ , and then for a second he looks just like he did 13 years ago, young and bright and shiny all over, laughing at something vapid and vain and something in Kravitz wrenches and _ aches _ \- 

And then just as quickly Kravitz blinks and he’s alone again. He’s just sitting alone in his living room, drinking a glass of wine that will only really make him sleepy and nothing else, and he’s so… _ tired _.

He swallows around a lump in his throat.

These feelings aren’t real. Kravitz knows they’re not. He’s been thinking his way around them for years; he’s used to that. Seeing him again for a fleeting half hour out of the blue doesn’t mean anything, and he _ doesn’t _ miss Taako - it’s just a trick of his brain, cobbling together a feeling of having not dated in a while into a false pretense of missing Taako when he _ doesn’t _ . He would be just as happy if not _ happier _ without him. He _ is _ . Seeing Taako doesn’t change that, no matter what their history is. And the memory of something he felt toward Taako once isn’t a _ real _ feeling. There’s a difference. 

And besides, Kravitz isn’t sure that he even remembers any _ facts _ about Taako anymore, just vague impressions. And most of those, he thinks, must be invented too, a product of time and idealization. Like colorizing a black and white photograph. Not a restoration, just an imagined embellishment. Everything he knows about the man is a holdover from an early 20s imagination, and what could be less worthy of attention? What could be less _ useful _ to him now?

Kravitz has his own life, now. He has a family that is more important to him than Taako _ ever _ was. He has work he cares about and a _ son _ that he would do _ anything _ in the world for, and Taako has _ no _ part in that, not really. There is no part of that picture where Taako would fit anymore, and that’s a _ good _ thing. Kravitz raised Angus himself, with only his mother to help him, and _ certainly _without - 

No. That’s _ not _ \- that’s. He won’t think about that.

Kravitz is thirty-seven years old, and he’s solidly his own man, and seeing an ex again for a few minutes is _ not _ going to make him question things he’s known and _ felt _ for years. He’s not going to dwell on things that are in the past, that have _ no bearing _ on his life anymore.

He’s not going to give Taako that.

And just like that, it’s decided. Kravitz will be fine without giving Taako the mental energy necessary to even think his name. In fact, he’ll be _ better _. Of course he will be. He has no other options.

Kravitz sighs, finishes the wine quickly, if only because it seems a shame to pour it out. He grimaces, hates drinking quickly, but wanting nothing more now than to just go to bed. There’s a tiredness in his bones that he can’t ever seem to shake. It’s been there for 13 years and counting; he’s long since realized that this is just what adulthood, _ real _adulthood, with a kid and a job and a house, is like.

He goes through the motions on his way to bed, turning off lights in the kitchen, rinsing out the wine glass and placing it in the sink for a proper washing in the morning. He knows just the places to step on the stairs that they don’t creak. He stops briefly outside of Angus’s door, listening for movement. Satisfies himself that he’s asleep and heads down the hall to his own bedroom.

He washes his face, brushes his teeth. Changes into pajamas and slides into bed, sighing at the feel of finally putting his weight down after holding himself up all day.

And just as he has for the last twelve-odd years, Kravitz falls asleep alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you! I love you all!


	5. Crystal Kingdom

_ The vodka and pineapple juice concoction Lucas and his nerd friends cooked up tastes like cold liquid cheese, but it doesn’t stop Taako from drinking it anyway. _

_ The music at Lucas’s is loud enough to shatter any rational thought in Taako’s head. The drink is revolting and strong. Taako’s on his way to drunk, gunning for it, wading through the crowd of warm bodies, jammed wall to wall, chest heavy, voice echoing in his head,  _ Taako, I can’t _ - _

_ He notices he’s wet. _

_ Then he notices he’s not vertical. _

_ He and his drink go spilling across the floor, completely ruining his shirt, Taako hitting his hip  _ hard _ , bowling over a group of girls as he goes -  _

_ He feels the shape of the person behind him before he sees them, and he whips around, pushing himself up, spitting furiously,  _

_ “Hey Thug! What’s your name, I’m about to -” _

_ Pink light on incidental glitter, scattered across the nicest cheekbones he’s ever seen. Dark eyes in a darker room, looking at him with concern; the curve of gentle lips as they ask him if he’s alright, his head fuzzy but for once the alcohol not to blame. The music in his ears is soft, but the guy’s voice comes through clearer than his sister’s over the phone. _

_ He says his name is Kravitz.  _

_ Taako doesn’t get another drink for the rest of the night. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no update schedules we die like men ;)  
I submitted one grad school application! Hell yeah!


	6. call your overanalyzing "investigation" and you're valid for not paying attention in class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angus does some thinkin' and isn't reading too much into absolutely anything. Also his friends are shitheads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah it took me a month to write this, what of it?

When Angus awakes to the bright Friday morning, his first thought is not so much a thought at all as it is a _ feeling _: an overwhelming sense of relief that another week has passed largely without incident.

His second thought is that there is a _ mystery _to be solved, and that is what propels him out of bed and into getting himself ready for another long day.

The mystery of “why was my dad acting weird yesterday” is officially under investigation. And Angus, as he showers and fixes his hair and pulls on his clothes, reviews the collected clues.

See, Angus’s dad’s weirdness wasn’t confined to the car last night. He was quiet all through dinner, seemed to be half–distracted while he was working, even though he was applying himself more diligently than usual, and he completely forgot about reviewing extracurriculars with Angus, to the point that he had felt bad bringing it up when it was time for bed, and resolving to mention it to his dad tomorrow. And he wasn’t _ trying _to eavesdrop, but Angus was sure he stayed up later than usual, puttering around downstairs long after Angus went to bed, coming up much later than usual. His dad needs a lot of sleep. He didn’t get it last night.

So Angus is suspecting something _ big _ to be going on when he comes down to breakfast. The evidence is irrefutable. Something is up with his dad and he’s going to get to the bottom of it.

But his dad is going about his morning as usual, making himself a thermos of tea, working on a batch of eggs on the stove. He’s already dressed in one of his work suits and there aren’t even papers everywhere on the table, even though Angus thought he didn’t get much done last night.

“Morning, Angus,” he says, and there’s not… anything weird in his tone. It’s perfectly normal. Like this is any other morning.

“Morning,” Angus says back, suspicious, sliding into his chair at the table. His dad takes the eggs off the burner and slides some onto a plate along with a few pieces of bacon. He comes over and places is down in front of him. 

“Tea?” he asks.

“No thank you,” Angus says. His dad nods and goes to get the juice out of the fridge. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t go over that list of extracurriculars Mr. Peynirci gave us yesterday,” he says as he pours Angus some juice and puts the carton back in the fridge. “How about we look at it this weekend? We can put aside a few hours to do some research if you want.”

“Sure,” Angus says, accepts the glass from his dad, “sounds good.” And it’s _ normal _ and _ fine _. Angus doesn’t understand. His dad was so off yesterday and today it’s like nothing ever happened. 

Was his assessment wrong? Was he fine and Angus was inventing something? But Angus knows his dad better than he knows anybody else in the whole world – he knows when something is wrong. Usually. And he can’t help but feel like something is still… there. But his dad isn’t giving any more outward indication that something is different today than on any other day. If Angus didn’t know better… he’d say he was inventing it.

The thing is, Angus knows better.

But the morning passes quick enough that he isn’t given time to think about it much more, as he’s made to pack his bag and climbs into the car to head to school. There’s the short ride, and then his dad wishing him a good day as Angus gets out and slings his backpack over his shoulders.

And once again, Angus walks through the front doors of Neverwinter Secondary Academy.

He breathes deeply as he walks the halls. He doesn’t make eye contact with too many people. He stops by his locker, shoving away the things he needs for the second half of the day and keeping his morning books and materials before heading onto his math classroom.

He keeps his head down as he enters math, going immediately to his spot by the window, and mercifully there aren’t any _ comments _ from the back of the room today when he enters. One of _ them _ is standing on a desk, batting at the ceiling with something or other. Angus doesn’t stop to look. It’s easier not to.

Math goes by in a blur. Angus is only called on to go to the board once and copies down the problem perfectly. One of the kids in the back of the room calls out that they can’t see what he wrote and maybe he should get a stepstool, and it garners a few chuckles. Angus’s face gets hot momentarily on the way back to his seat, but by the end of class it’s nearly forgotten. Second period latin nearly puts him to sleep. There’s a sub, and they’re doing a _ word search _ in _ high school _ . It takes him six minutes and forty–seven seconds to complete it. There’s no other work to do for the rest of the class, but the sub won’t let him take out his phone _ or _ read.

Angus can physically _ feel _himself becoming lighter as he walks to Mr. Taako’s class. The one consistent highlight of his day, every day, is Mr. Taako’s class. He has friends in there, and even on the first day of school, he liked Taako. He likes his quirky teaching style, his terrible shirts, the way he keeps them on their toes and makes them think and lets them argue things out in class without stepping in too much.

He’s very excited for the respite Lit is going to give him after the morning he’s had.

And then.

He walks in, says hi to Taako, and _ there. _

Angus lives with _ his dad _. He knows when an adult is trying to look normal in the face of discomfort. 

Angus says hello to Mr. Taako as he walks into the classroom, and he can practically see every muscle in his teacher’s back tense up all at once. He can see the purposeful way Taako smiles when he turns around and says _ morning, Ango _ , just like he does every day, and it’s _ normal _. 

It’s _ too normal _.

And _ that’s _what settles it.

Something is going on.

Several thoughts occur to him in succession:

  1. That two important adults in his life have begun acting strangely in the last 24 hours:
  2. His dad and Mr. Taako met yesterday.
  3. Both instances of strange behavior occurred after the meeting, as far as Angus is aware
  4. (Conjecture; From 2, 3): The cause of the strange behavior could very well be the meeting.
  5. Taako’s change in demeanor appeared directly related to Angus’s presence.
  6. He also made an effort to hide his obvious discomfort _from _Angus.
  7. Angus is Mr. Taako’s closest association to his father.
  8. He can eliminate the possibility that their uncomfortable behavior is related to something to do with _Angus_, as he listened into their conversation yesterday, and nothing disparaging was said about his work or behavior.
  9. (Conjecture; From 4–8): Something happened between Angus’s dad and Mr. Taako that has left a lasting negative impression upon them.

It’s strange though, he thinks, as he pulls out his notebooks and pens and shoves his backpack underneath his desk. They didn’t seem to _ say _ anything strange to one another. Angus was listening. And maybe there was a touch of stiffness in their manner, but he had chalked it up to nothing more than the oddities of a first meeting.

Did they not like each other? It would be disappointing if so. Angus had been hoping his dad would like Taako. Seeing as Taako is just about the only thing getting Angus through high school at the moment.

Mavis slides into the desk beside him and Angus smiles. Well. _ One _ of the only things.

He barely has time to shoot her a tight, quick smile as the bell rings and Mr. Taako springs up from where he was leaning lazily against his desk, launching right into business

“Now, if you were hoping to get your essays back today I’ve got some bad news for you, but! I hope you’ve done your readings for today because, if you’ll remember, we’re beginning –”

Angus is not listening to the content of Taako’s words today. He’s already read through half of _ Animal Farm _ and the message is painfully obvious. He’s sure Mavis will say the same once class is over, but even so she’s taking studious notes just like she does every class, spending most of it bent over her composition book rather than raising her hand.

Angus is watching Mr. Taako. Watching his eyes, his movements. Taako doesn’t call on him, but then Angus doesn’t raise his hand either. He doesn’t look at Angus when he’s talking, but then there’s really no _ reason _ to, maybe Angus is just imagining that Taako is ignoring him. He _ thinks _ Taako is but… his dad has told him time and time again that you can’t complete a case without _ facts _. 

And the fact of the matter is, Angus hasn’t been paying close enough attention until now to compare his current data to anything. Taako was acting strange when he walked in; that much is confirmed. But without more data…

Angus’s investigation is dead in the water.

The bell rings. Angus packs up his things, says goodbye to Taako, as always, who motions him out with a cheerful wave, and as always, Mavis walks out beside him and waits until they’re caught up in the crowd of the hallways to burst.

“Oh my _ god _ ,” she groans, “I thought that one would never end; I mean usually I like Mr. Taako’s class but Jeremy was on some next–level _ shit _ today. You’d think if you’re _ Neverwinter Secondary _ you’d have the brainpower to understand a simple allegory.”

“Mhm,” Angus murmurs. They turn the corner and start down the stairs to the cafeteria.

“I mean, come _ on _ , you must’ve been going _ insane _. I’m surprised you didn’t come back to any of it –” Mavis glances over to him and stops. She sighs. “You… weren’t paying attention to any of it, were you.”

“Sorry,” Angus says, genuinely a bit ashamed. He’s going to have to look off of Mavis’s notes now. It’s lucky he’s friends with her. On days when he’s paying attention, he remembers the material for years. On days when he’s not… not a scrap of it sticks.

“It’s fine, you can copy off my notes again,” Mavis says. They throw their backpacks down at their usual table (4th on the left) and head toward the lunch line. Angus’s dad doesn’t pack his lunch and most of the time Angus is too lazy to. Mavis’s dad _ does _, but hers is always full of granola and “healthy shit” as she puts it. She hates the off–brand fruit leather, so she almost always picks up a basket of fries in the line anyway. She likes to give the snacks away.

Mavis was Angus’s first friend at NSA. She sat down right next to him on the first Friday of school in Mr. Taako’s class and they hit it off right away. Angus thought when he got to school that maybe people wouldn’t mind that he was twelve and in high school. Maybe they’d even think it was cool. That he’d be like a novelty or something.

He should’ve known that wasn’t even _ close _ to reality.

It seemed before the end of his first day everyone in school knew that he was… well… _ different _ . And some people seemed not to worry about it too much, at least in class, but in terms of making friends? Well. It was evident pretty quickly that no one wanted to hang out with the 7th grader in high school clothing. Mavis was just about the only person who was willing to actually _ talk _ to him. She’s also one of the smartest people Angus has ever met, which is saying something. She’s a voracious reader and a fierce and fast friend. Angus likes her.

“So what’s up?” She asks as they return to the table. June’s already sat down with her bag lunch; acknowledges them with a nod, her mouth full of sandwich. Angus met June in his law and justice elective through a group project. She’s a sophomore, an absolute _ fiend _ with computers, and she started hanging out with Angus just as soon as she realized “he was the only one worth talking to in this class anyway” (her words). _ June’s _ dad packs perfectly normal lunches. Angus isn’t jealous of that, definitely. “What had you zoning out for all of Lit enough that you didn’t hear Jeremy spouting some _ bullshit _ –”

“Wait a minute,” June says, raising her hand to interject, “I thought we liked Lit?”

“We _ do _ , which is why it’s _ weird _ that Angus wasn’t paying attention.”

“Did Mr. Taako seem weird to you?” Angus blurts before he can think it through any more.

Mavis frowns. “He seemed… like Taako? He’s always weird.” She kind of looks at Angus for a second. “Why?”

Angus shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s just last night my dad –”

“Oh shit,” June cuts in, “they had that meeting yesterday.” Her eyes are wide. “How did it go?”

“_ Fine _ , I thought,” Angus says, “but then when we left my dad was acting all _ weird _, and – you know how Taako always makes like almost uncomfortable eye contact when he’s lecturing to make sure you’re paying attention?”

“Yeah,” Mavis says.

“No,” June says. Mavis rolls her eyes. Angus pushes on.

“Well today,” he continues, “he didn’t look at me _ once _. For the whole class.”

“Maybe he forgot you were there,” June says with a smirk. Mavis elbows her in the side. “Ow!”

“You don’t think something happened during the meeting, do you?” Mavis asks.

“I was listening the whole time with my headphones on so they thought I wasn’t–”

“Of _ course _ you were–”

“–so I don’t think so. I mean, it didn’t _ sound _like they said anything bad.”

“Maybe they were doing that parents thing where they talk all around the problem so you don’t notice.”

Angus levels June with a _ look _.

“Okay, yeah,” June says, “you would’ve noticed.”

“You said your dad was acting weird too?” Mavis asks. “What kind of weird?”

And Angus runs them through it all. How his dad got real quiet on the way home, how he seemed unfocused when he was working and even when Angus was trying to talk to him. The way he didn’t bring up the meeting again all night even though Taako told them to talk about extra–curriculars, and Angus didn’t even have his headphones in for that part.

“I thought maybe he was just busy, but then I came into class today and Mr. Taako looked at me like I caught him in the _ middle _ of something I shouldn’t have.”

“Maybe you _ did _,” June says, delighted. Mavis rolls her eyes again.

“June,” she starts, but June just cuts her off.

“I’m _ serious _ . Mr. Taako has _ secrets _.”

“You didn’t even have him,” Mavis says, exasperated.

“I didn’t _ need _ to,” June shoots back, “people _ talk _.”

“What people.” Mavis says flatly.

“Just people!” June insists, “They say Mr. Taako has a secret identity.”

“He does _ not _have a secret identity.”

“Well he’s been to _ jail _.”

“Bullshit.” Mavis says.

“I don’t think Mr. Taako’s the kind of person who would commit a crime…” Angus says. He doesn’t like the idea of people going around talking about Mr. Taako having a criminal career. He likes Mr. Taako.

June seems to notice Angus’s discomfort. “Well it probably wasn’t for anything _ bad _. Maybe he was wrongly convicted or something.”

“June where did you even _ hear _ this?” Mavis asks.

“From a senior.”

“_ Which _ senior.”

“I don’t know his name!”

“You were talking to him but you don’t know his _ name _.”

“I wasn’t really _ talking _ to him so much as I was walking by in the hallway–”

“So you heard this walking by a group of people in the hallway and you’re _ certain _ that you heard them say that _ Mr. Taako _ has done time in _ jail _.”

“Look, Angus is on my side in this.” June says, “When you’re investigating a mystery you have to listen to every source you can find on the topic!” 

Now Angus rolls his eyes. 

“That doesn’t mean you treat everything you hear as objective truth, June.” He takes a bite of his sandwich.

“Who says we’re investigating Taako anyway?!” Mavis says, throwing her hands up.

“Maybe we should be if Angus says he’s acting _ weird _ –”

“You’ve barely even _ met _ him–”

“Why should that matter?”

June and Mavis continue to bicker, as usual, but Angus’s mind is far away, thinking about what June said. Not the crazy conspiracy theories – June is a gossip hound and mostly just wants to stir Mavis up – but the thing about _ investigating _ Taako. He’s not sure she’s entirely wrong. Not much has happened to make him think there’s more going on than just Taako and his dad having simultaneous weird days, but... his instincts tell him there’s something more going on here.

And besides, if his dad _ does _ have a problem with Mr. Taako, or vice versa, Angus wants to know about it. Mr. Taako’s done everything he can for Angus since he got to school. Angus doesn’t want his dad to dislike him.

There’s something he’s missing here. He just doesn’t know what.

What he _does_ know is that he's going to get to the bottom of it, one way or another. He's Angus McDonald.

Nothing can remain a mystery to him for long.


	7. Beanjuice (and being a single father)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angus gets a coffee (well, not really). Kravitz doubles-down on his double order of denial, served hot and fresh. I spy with my little eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOOO It's been so FUCKING long brosephs what's uP??? Shoutout to that anon on tumblr who sent me like 4 asks about liking my stuff this one's for u buddy :D Never think that feedback doesn't fuel us writers
> 
> Oh and also this one's for Laura, because she's the person who tells me to get my head out of my ass when I'm whining about being a bad writer, love you babe.

There are a few known laws of the universe that cannot be broken lest the fabric of reality should tear and the entirety of space and time come crashing down atop humanity’s collected heads.

Angus is rapidly learning one of them: that high schoolers’ hangout time on Friday afternoons after the final school bell shall not be trespassed by any force, except maybe soccer practice.

So even mysteries about one’s dad and one’s favorite teacher have to wait.

See, back through the grounds of Neverwinter Secondary, down the path beyond the soccer field, is a small strip of shops and restaurants in a row. Just past the treeline. There’s a break in the chain link fence that all the students slip through, and then it’s a simple matter to walk around the buildings and grab a quick after-school coffee or a snack. Sure, they could just take the sidewalk down by the road, but it takes a few minutes more, and a group of high schoolers have never been known to take a roadside sidewalk when they can traipse through the woods and climb up a steep embankment and inevitably get a bit of dirt on their nice school uniforms. 

On Friday afternoons when Mavis is with her dad Angus meets up with her and June outside the library and the three of them wander over and see what they can see. Mr. Highchurch stays after school for a long time; although he never seems terribly on top of his grading so Angus isn’t sure  _ exactly _ what he’s doing, but it gives Mavis and them time to get a snack and hang out  _ outside of school  _ like  _ cool  _ big kids before he comes by with the car to pick her up.

Today they decide on the local coffee shop, Beanjuice. Which in Angus’s opinion is a truly horrific name for a coffee shop but June maintains that it’s  _ stylish. _

“It’s  _ modern _ , Angus!” she says as they walk over, “it’s minimalism! It’s abstract humor! It’s genius!”

Angus doesn’t know about  _ genius _ , but they do have good drinks, comfortable couches, and a collection of freshly–made pastries and sandwiches that change by the day. So it’s popular with the NSA crowd.

He, Mavis, and June have only been a few times, but already they have a routine. June goes and snags them a table when they come in (or the couches if they can get them), while Angus and Mavis head to the counter and get the drinks and snacks.

They have the chocolate chocolate chip muffins today. Angus thinks they might be stocking them more on Fridays because of the school crowd. He orders one, warm, and a lemonade. Mavis gets a hot tea and orders June a frappuccino, because she’s a sophomore and likes to brag about how she drinks coffee, even though Angus already won the argument that frappuccinos are just glorified milkshakes.

At the time June had said that if that was true, she was only  _ more _ valid for drinking them.

Angus hadn’t had a comeback for that one.

They wait by the end of the counter, collect their things, and head over to where June’s seated on the two slightly ratty, large couches that sit opposite each other around a low, rustic coffee table. It is a coveted position in the store; they don’t always get there early enough to snag them. 

This, of course, means that June’s already pulled out her homework and has it spread out across the coffee table.

And that’s the thing.

Angus loves his friends. But upon the first instance of their coffee shop Fridays, they realized they didn’t have much to  _ do _ once they got there, as nice as hanging out in a coffee shop sounded, and they all decided to get a headstart on their homework for the weekend. 

And that was when it hit Angus that he had fallen into a friend group entirely of nerds.

It’s not like he would have it any other way. It’s nice to get most of his homework done before the weekend properly begins and have the pressure be off until Monday. It’s nice to be able to talk to his friends about it and compare notes. Angus doesn’t like to show it but… high school is hard. Just because he  _ can _ do the work doesn’t mean that he doesn’t sometimes wonder whether or not he  _ should _ . So, all in all it’s a good arrangement.

But it  _ is  _ indicative of a specific brand, and that brand is quite definitively of a strong  _ nerd _ category.

Oh well. It’s not like Angus had a chance with a different clique. It’s just… it is what it is. He opens up his backpack and begins to rifle through the papers in it, haphazardly stuffed between books and notebooks.

He’s got a fair bit of work this week. It’s not going to be overwhelming, but still. Midterms. Angus has never had  _ midterms _ before. He’s basically skipping middle school entirely, and, well. He hopes it goes okay. Something about the word  _ midterm _ makes him extra-aware of how much of a fish out of water he is sometimes. He knows they’re not going to be easy - 

He chastises himself in his head. School isn’t supposed to be  _ easy _ . The challenge of it is the reason he’s  _ there _ as opposed to seventh grade.

But  _ midterms _ is just an intimidating word, and it’s not like it’s even the  _ middle _ of the semester, exactly, so it doesn’t even really make sense - 

He’s getting off track.

This week he’s mostly got papers. NSA puts an emphasis on writing more than traditional test-taking, so Angus is writing a lot of essays. It’s another thing that makes him grateful for Mr. Taako; Angus has already come to him more than once this semester with rough drafts for other classes and asked for help looking over them.

He’s got an AP government paper due on Tuesday, so he tackles that first, opening up the textbook and a few of the sources the teacher suggested. He, Mavis, and June work in companionable quiet, occasionally piping up with various comments. Angus hides a smile at the way June slowly slides off the couch and onto the floor as time goes by. He waits for Mavis to tell her it’s  _ gross _ to sit on the floor of a  _ public place, June _ .

It’s familiar already. It’s nice.

It’s interrupted by Mavis tapping him on the shoulder.

“Angus,” she says, “that guy keeps looking over here.”

Angus looks. And there, in the corner of the shop, at a table almost comically small for him, sits a kid Angus kind of recognizes… from his government class, yes that’s it. His eyes lock with Angus’s for a minute before flicking back down to the screen of his beat-up laptop, a purposeful avoidance. Angus can’t remember his name, but he knows he’s on NSA’s football team, and yes, that explains his large frame, and he’s a…. Senior? Angus thinks? He thinks he remembers him sleeping in class but he can hardly remember-

“Do you think he’s trouble?” June asks. Angus’s head snaps to her, sitting on the floor, looking too. It only just occurs to Angus that maybe they’re rude to stare. He looks away quickly. June’s words make his stomach twist a little. The guy in the corner has never particularly stood out to Angus as someone who would...well. But he’s learned that attention at NSA isn’t always a good thing, especially for him. He thinks of the hecklers in his math class, the looks he sometimes gets in the hallway…

He pushes it out of his mind.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he says, turning back to his homework.

“Are you sure-” Mavis starts. Angus interrupts her.

“Your dad’s gonna come by soon, June,” he says, checking his phone for the time, and, thank goodness, he’s right and it doesn’t look like an excuse. “We should probably wrap things up.”

He doesn’t look back at the guy in the corner again. 

For ten merciful minutes Angus forces himself to stop thinking about school bullies or being 12 or his dad acting weird or his favorite teacher and only mentor being inexplicably unable to look him in the eye. For ten minutes, he doesn’t think about anything at all.

*~*~*~*~*

Kravitz doesn’t think about Taako at all on Friday, from the time he wakes up to the time he goes to sleep.

Well… that’s not entirely accurate. There are a few moments during his day, at his desk, or over lunch, or on his way to pick up Angus after school, that the name, or a sliver of his face, crosses his mind for just a second. Where he’s tempted to bypass his old habits of not dwelling on the past and fall into even older habits of micro-analyzing every expression in Taako’s face or miniscule shift in body language; he’s tempted, so tempted to go back and imagine everything from their meeting all over again, to replay the memory like film on a screen. 

He doesn’t, though. He succeeds at pushing it away, into a small corner of his mind, and he has one of his most productive days in months, and he feels extremely adult for not letting the past get to him the way it might have. He’s a grown man with a job and a house and a  _ child _ , for god’s sake, and he’s not going to allow foolish remembrances of things past invade his life and unravel him from the inside out.

And that’s another thing, he thinks, as he drives toward Angus’s school. He’s got Angus to look after, and he’s not going to allow Taako to interfere with that at all. In fact, there’s very little to make him believe that it will even be an issue that Taako is Angus’s teacher at all. He had some decent recommendations for ways that Angus might be able to get more involved at NSA, and Kravitz can work with that. The most important thing, in all of this, is to be there for Angus, and Kravitz has no evidence that  _ Mr. Peynirci _ is going to interfere in it at all. And really, that would be the only reason Angus’s teacher would be worth worrying about.

Kravitz has been a parent for twelve years now. He’s gotten the hang of it, he thinks, as he pulls into the parking lot of the strip mall where Angus and his friends go to coffee on Fridays. He can be a good parent to Angus, as he always tries to be, and he can be mature enough to be a polite stranger to Taako - to  _ Mister Peynirci _ . There should be no trouble in that. It’s likely Kravitz won’t see him more than a few times for the rest of the year. Perfect. 

Angus slides merrily into the car when Kravitz pulls up to  _ Beanjuice _ (a terrible name for a coffee shop, but Angus insists they make good drinks), waving goodbye to June and Mavis, waiting on the curb with Mister Highchurch, who wears yet another loud Hawaiian shirt. Kravitz smiles politely, raises his hand in greeting, and asks after Angus’s day as he buckles himself into the passenger seat. That gets Angus chatting as they pull away, and for a moment, Kravitz allows himself to rest in how routine it all is.

When they get home, Angus goes and turns on the TV. Kravitz fixes dinner. It’s normal. He doesn’t flinch at the dinner table when Angus mentions that Mr. Taako was acting strange today. He doesn’t use Taako’s first names in his follow up inquiries. He brushes his teeth and goes to bed and it’s normal, exceptionally normal. Angus sleeps late on Saturday and Kravitz does too, and in the afternoon they go on a short hike out by the lake in a nearby state park and enjoy the fresh air, and Kravitz is thankful, right down to his bones, for Angus and everything he is in his life, like he is every day. Kravitz’s mother comes over for dinner on Saturday night and dotes on Angus, as she always does, and strokes Kravitz’s cheekbones with her thumbs and tells him to get more sleep, and Kravitz laughs. On Sunday, the morning is lazy, and in the afternoon they sit down and look at the extracurriculars Mr. Peynirci suggested and Angus finishes an essay when they’re done.

It’s normal. It’s nice. It’s the status quo, and Kravitz can manage that. He’s been managing it for years. 

If the weekend proves anything, it’s that he can keep managing for just about forever, if it comes to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u know the drill. Like, comment, and subscribe. Find me on patreon (I do not have a patreon, what the fuck would I have one of those for)  
it's almost 1am no update schedules we die like men.  
I love you!!  
\- Desiree <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the read! Leave a kudos and a comment if you liked it, want more, or just want to scream. I know I certainly do. Screaming is one of my favorite pastimes.  
More of my work [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desiree_Harding/pseuds/Desiree_Harding) and [here!](https://desiree-harding-fic.tumblr.com/)  
Playlist for this au [here!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1UzyNXVDauvCwg1AjbVm8v?si=wvWFvRh_RESKbgVLidzrMA)  
Considerable edits and content contributed by [@fandomsnstuff!](https://fandomsnstuff.tumblr.com/)


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